Aeria Gloris
by saiyuri-dahlia
Summary: What influences turns a boy into a shinobi? What turns him away? What draws him back in? Follow Jin through his memories as he pursues the concept of Aeria Gloris. DEAD. Due to poor writing and loss of outline/notes. Rebirth: If Possible.


Story Title: Aeria Gloris

Disclaimer: I don't own YYH.

Author's Notes: For once, I'm not doing a story using only the four main boys. It's refreshing for a change. This fanfic was inspired by the GITS song, "Inner Universe". Let's see where this adventure takes us…

Prologue

So this is how it ends, I guess. Get my wings, and here I go, and get them clipped. The wind master watched his blurry reflection in the smooth steel skyscraper plummet beside him. His spray of blood separated into individual shining droplets soaring and floating above him. He smiled and laughed. They were like dark red snowflakes. He caught one in his hand—it ran down his palm as he licked it. Nope, not like the real thing at all.

His hair whipped violently in his face and blinded him from the color of the sky. Damn it, guess he'd have to miss the sunset. Saya, are the sunsets as pretty there as they are here? He hoped they were. He hoped everything was as wonderful as she told him. Too bad he would never see it for himself. Never see his _Aeria gloris._ Closing his eyes, now a dull dark blue, he waited for the final impact.

To pass the time, he hummed a song…

Chapter One: I Want To Become The Wind

Somewhere between two green hills, he walked barefoot in the flapping stream. His feet stepping on smooth stones pressed hard into his pad, lightly bruising. His toes clutched sediment from the stream bottom between each digit as Jin stared into the clear blue of the afternoon. Filling his lungs with the warm, sweet air of the passing wind, his chest cavity ballooned and tightened his skin until his ribs were visible through muscle.

Closing his eyes and listening to the birds in the nearby forest, a grin with tiny fangs was on his face, "Ah, now this is paradise. A guy could get used to this. Close an eye and be asleep in a wink here." He talked as if someone else was with him. Force of habit, usually there were others around him. Not here. It was the human world.

No, it wasn't.

Jin rose in his bed. A dream again. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. It was a wonderful dream, so rejuvenating and calming. Why didn't he feel that way? He knew exactly why. It was a place he could never see. The dream merely dangled before him, tantalizingly real, then pop! He awoke in his bed, with only his longing and hope to comfort him.

Standing and stretching, Jin made his way around the narrow passages of his tiny hovel into the bathroom, the largest room. The moonlight cast his shadow on the opposite wall as he relieved himself into a hole in the ground, directly connected to the town's flowing sewer system. Three steps later, he pulled the shower drawstring and cursed the slow wait as the water pumped itself from the community underground reservoir and into his rusty, complaining pipes. Finally the water surged and poured onto his head. It was cold. As usual. Since he was naked and wet anyway, he fumbled around with his hands for some soap and washed.

Sweeping away the last droplets of water on his flesh, Jin, as best as he could, dried his hair out with a towel before resorting to a strong blast of wind. Not only was it dry, it was in its signature puffball look, thanks to the wind.

He was hungry, but there wasn't a piece of dried meat, a basket of fruit, or even a rind of bread in his house. Jin sat on his bed, frowned, and rubbed his empty stomach. When daylight breaks I'm getting' some grub…he told himself while daydreaming of lavish feasts he could never pay for. A shinobi like Jin always got a nice cut of gold, but it didn't pay that much. Besides…money tended to fly from Jin's hands.

The warm summer wind blew inside from one of the innumerable and undistinguishable cracks and openings all throughout his home. At least it was summer. Winter, this year, had been horrible. Luckily, he had plenty of missions to keep him away. But the times he was home…how he survived the blizzards, sub-zero temperatures, and the howling arctic wind seeping through the gaping sieve that were his walls was beyond his comprehension. Jin looked around into the bare darkness of his bedroom and into the main chamber. He had furniture.

Until that winter.

He had burned it all to keep warm, some nights sleeplessly crouched beside the tiny flame using his wind powers to keep it strong. Sometimes he was too overzealous and blew it out. If he couldn't get another started, he went without.

Jin stared out through his window at the black silhouettes of trees and the full moon misted in hazy gray clouds looking like a steaming meat bun in Jin's eyes. Wiping the drool from his lips' right corner, he averted his gaze and focused on the inside rather than the out.

Jin's thoughts began to drift, backwards. Fuzzy and unclear those memories, he rummaged underneath his bed for an aid among his few possessions. In a faded brown, leather-bound book that was not his, his fingers lifted the yellow, mildew-scented, cracking pages until he had found the photo that was not his. It was in black and white turning brown. Its edges were lightly charred black and jagged with a flame's bite marks. It was a picture of the place in his dream. Yes, it wasn't just a dream but a real place—she had told him so. She had seen it. She had lived there. He could still hear her song, sung in her strong but sweet voice, as she danced in the temple ruins as if there were no wars breaking across Makai, as if words like "mission", "objective goals", and "target" didn't exist, as if life had something worth living. For the most part, her voice, as visibly hard as she tried, was always slightly off-key. However, there was one part she always was in perfect pitch. Jin didn't remember anything else about the song except those two beautiful words.

_Aeria gloris…Aeria gloris… _

—_Past—_

"Jin! Pay attention, you lazy fool," the Wind Master Fuuha bellowed. "How many times do I have to explain this? To withstand high winds while on the ground, center your spirit energy in your feet. Allow some of it to rise through your legs. You will now be heavy enough to remain planted. Balance and focus is key."

Shaking the dirt from his long ponytail, the young boy quickly brushed himself off and nodded. His instructor put some distance between them and faced him. Jin prepared his mind and body for Fuuha's wind, doing exactly as his master taught him. He even watched carefully as Fuuha's battle-scarred tan hands fell into position. Picking up dust from the dojo's earthen floor, the wind spiraled and compressed into a small floating ball. His puffy dark green pants billowed and his gray ponytail whipped in the summoned breeze. Jin increased his spirit energy, now ready to face him once again. Fuuha shot the wind, violently exploding from its tiny prison. Of course, it was a direct hit, the full force straight into his small chest cavity. Pieces of his boys' light kimono ripped away as the boy pin-wheeled in the air and into the wall.

It took him a minute or two but the boy eventually rose onto his knees. "No fair, old man! That was way stronger than the last time!" Jin puffed out his cheeks and glared.

"Don't be stupid. Of course it was." he rubbed his brow above his red and white skull-patterned eye patch. "You're awfully whiny today."

"I am not!" his eyes were wet with tears.

"Liar!" Fuuha barked.

Fuuha stretched his fit muscles, the envy of every middle-aged demon man. Jin wanted to be like him. He wanted to be strong, to live comfortably as he pleased, to have the village's respect like Fuuha had. Often the boy had watched Fuuha train. The tricks he could do with wind…Jin had never seen anything like it. When his father said he could live with Fuuha, he couldn't stop smiling and wiggling his pointed ears. However, the first lesson he learned was that everything was better through a child's eyes.

"I'm going home!" Jin shouted and ran. His dirty footsteps stomped on the wooden veranda. Fuuha groaned and massaged his brow but didn't stop him. He was too old to be chasing after whiny children.

A baby clutched at her breast, the bony woman peeled herself from the wooden rocker and shuffled her feet across the dirt floor to answer the door. Rain poured. Pots and pans catching drips and leaks cluttered the floor. Ohana was not an old woman, but the stress of many years and daily living had ruined her once healthy svelte frame and wore her with age. Her eyes were permanently cast in shadow and red from crying. She was finding larger clumps of hair in her brush each morning.

"Hello?" she peeked from the thin crack she allowed herself. "Jin!" Ohana threw open the door and wrapped her arms around her son. "Jin…you're not dead. That monster didn't kill you."

That monster? What monster? Fuuha? Jin thought everyone loved and respected him. No one ever said anything bad about him. He stared at his mother as her hand left his cheek and they went inside. Ohana returned to her rocking chair as Jin walked around, taking everything back in. Very little had changed from his departure, yet he had to make sure with his own eyes. Ah, the height chart! His eyes grew wide as he ran over and stood against the doorframe.

"Look, Mama, I've grown," his smile beamed at his accomplishment of two new inches.

Ohana softly returned his enthusiasm," That you have. That you have…" She sighed as she stood and laid Jin's little sister in her woven cradle. Gesturing with a hushed finger on her closed lips, she nodded for Jin to go into the bedroom.

His family shared one room for a bedroom. His parents' futons were pushed together on one side while Jin's was on the other. A thick curtain served as the door. Privacy was unknown to Jin, at his age this is how he thought most families slept. He found out by the other village children's teasing that it wasn't the case. His family was too poor to have a larger home with a room of his own, so instead this was the arrangements, all within earshot of his mother's nightmares, his father's nasally snoring, and even their sounds of love.

Ohana sat on her futon and told Jin to sit on his father's. Before he left, after his father had left for work in the morning, his mother used to let him sleep beside her. His father would always scold him for it and call him names, but he did it anyway. After he left, that was one of the first things he missed.

Taking her brush in one hand and untying his band with her other, Ohana brushed her son's hair, taking slow strokes to not to pull any tangles too roughly. "That man…he doesn't even know how to brush a boy's hair. Did he ever?"

"No, Mama. Ouch!"

"Oh sorry, Jin," she kissed the back of his head. He had her hair color, but his father's unruly thickness…which basically translated to many knots, if it wasn't properly taken care of. Sure Fuuha could take her son away, but could he take care of him? Ha!

When she was done, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. No words could express how happy she was to have him back. He rested content against her and stared into the room.

"Mama, I'm hungry," he leaned forward and turned his head around to face her.

Ohana smiled," There's some leftover rice on the bottom of the pan. It's a little hard, so you'll have to scrape it. Quietly though, remember Naeko is sleeping." Her son nodded and tiptoed his way into the main room. The way he walked trying to be quiet for his little sister, Ohana had to smile. He was such a good boy.

When he came home, Arashi would not be pleased.

—_Present— _

"Jin, damn it, I can't be putting everything on a tab," the rounded demon replied as he wiped out the insides of a beer glass. "Times are tough now."

The wind master gave a flat stare as he wiped the yellow grains of sleep from his eyes. "Your brains are full of bullocks if you think I'm dumb enough to fall for that. Yea, sure, times are tough. But I don't see a single empty seat here, so I don't exactly see you suffering."

The pug-faced innkeeper flared his nostrils," Shows what a shinobi knows about business."

Jin leaned back on the bar stool and grinned. "Ooo, yea. That might be true. But we do know how to kill people, that's for sure."

He shot the wind master a narrow glare," Jin, I'll throw you out for talking like that. You're just askin' for trouble."

He threw his head back and laughed," Seems I can't pull your leg anymore, Obutsu. I like to think of you as a friend and friends don't kill each other…no, they help…like putting a meal on a tab."

"Nice try, but hell no," he smirked and poured a beer for a paying customer. Jin frowned and sighed and laid his head on the counter. Gaaah, I'm so hungry, he moaned in his thoughts.

—_Past—_

Arashi took Jin's presence better than his wife had expected. As Ohana was preparing their meager dinner, with portions further thinned by Jin's return, and the boy was making faces to his smiling sister, Arashi stood silent in the front doorway and stared at his son. Was he disappointed? Was he angry? There was nothing in his expression to tell Ohana which. Her husband had a face of stone, both in its distinguishing features and its expression. Despite his younger age, he had already gathered much wear and scarring on his flesh than many of his elders.

"Good evening, Naeko. Ohana." His strong, full voice greeted calmly. "How has my family been today?" He never told them how his day had been. They could tell how his sweat-drenched dark green hair lay plastered against his face and neck, or how his almond-shaped eyes drooped like broken rice stalks exactly how his day had been.

Naeko tugged on her brother's kimono. She still wanted to play, but her brother had stopped to stare at their father. He had looked at him. He knew he was there. Why didn't his father greet him as well?

"Papa, I'm home," he called to him. "Papa, aren't you going to say hello to me?"

"Ohana, watch the fish. You're starting to char them." Arashi said as he sat down at the low table with his back turned from Jin.

The boy stood and walked over to his father. Tugging on his kimono sleeve, Jin tried to get his attention. Arashi kept his focus ahead and drowned out the boy. When he finally had enough, he yanked the clothing out of the boy's hands and clutched it tightly to himself as he rose.

"Ohana, into the bedroom," she nodded as she removed the fish from the flame and checked the rice.

The thick curtain covering the door, the room was dim. Twilight was falling outside. A murder of crows cawed raucously as they took flight. Jin's mother fumbled with her fingers as she turned to face her husband. This was the reaction she had been dreading. As usual, his expression revealed little. Ohana prepared for the worst. Arashi grabbed his wife by her kimono collar and drew her close.

His tone was hushed but laced with anger, "How dare you let that boy set foot in this house…I told you, if he came back, to send him away."

Ohana narrowed her eyes," A mother never abandons her children."

Her husband paused. He averted his eyes and stared at Jin's bed. His voice sounded hurt by her words," I don't want you to but there's little we can do. I can't work enough hours in the day to make enough for Fuuha's payments and still survive. Our land is dry. We have no possessions of any value to him. Our children are all we have."

Her eyes grew wide and welled with tears," You mean…you sold him to Fuuha?"

She bit her lip as Arashi wrapped his arms around her. Softly she cried into his chest. "Please, dear, don't cry. Jin will have a better life. Better than I could have ever provided him. I rather give him that opportunity than to keep him here to starve to death."

Ohana's hands bunched clumps of fabric," So instead we send him to become a monster…a murderer for hire!"

"What Fuuha chooses to do with him is none of our business," Arashi replied coldly. His wife lay still against him. A slight bit of hope raised in his voice," Fuuha likes him. Thinks he has potential to take up his arts. He paid a lot for him. The boy's taken a lot off my shoulders."

"He is such a good boy."

Jin rushed inside. He stood strong with his tightly clenched hands in front of his chest. He had been listening to the conversation, though some of it had been too low for even his ears to pick up.

"Don't cry, Mama. I'll make it so that Papa doesn't have to work so hard. Really I will. Then…then I can come back for real."

"Jin…" she crouched down beside him and embraced him," Stay. Don't go back to that monster. Jin…"

"Mama, I'm not going to cry anymore. And neither should you." She smiled and forced a brief laugh for his words. Jin kissed his mother's chin and turned to leave. He paused. He turned back around to look at his father. Hair covered his eyes as he hung his head, but through his solemn demeanor, his son saw a small, thankful smile crack across his face. Returning the expression and finally with a sharp nod, Jin left.

Fuuha sat on a rock just across from his dojo as Jin came running. Even though his eyes were closed and smoke from his pipe blinded his vision, he knew it was the boy. Hmp, he actually came back. Jin stood, hunched over as he caught his breath. Crows looked on from their treetop perches in silence. Night had fallen. A full moon illuminated the ground and cast their shadows. Like the crows, the stars eagerly watched the scene unfolding before them.

"Fuuha! I came back. I'm ready to be your apprentice now," he was full of such energy now, he couldn't help smiling.

The wind master sat grimly in silence. After a while, he flicked some of the burning ash from his pipe. Still he had yet to say anything. The boy's smile began to fall.

"Who said I ever wanted to waste my time training a useless crybaby. I should just send you away and charge your father for his damaged goods," His words slashed through him but Jin refused to cry.

"Well, maybe you should!" Jin screamed as the back of his neck turned his hair color. Fuuha opened his eyes. "Then, I'll just go and find a new master, who will teach me how to kick your butt!"

Smiling as he stood, Fuuha walked over and laid his hand on Jin's surprised head. "You really think you can find anyone as good as me? Heh, you'll never find anyone who can teach you what I can."

Jin puffed his cheeks," Then you teach me!"

"Hahaha, then I can't go easy on you anymore," he lightly shoved Jin forward as he made his way into the dojo.

Jin raced to catch up with him," You mean you were easy on me earlier?"

"Heh, it's a brutal test to weed out the weaklings. And you're the first apprentice that's ever returned...You're either a moron or a masochist."

Jin peered up at him and smiled," Neither."

Heh, as if he really knew what the word meant, but it was a good answer anyway, Fuuha noted. He told him that training would begin in the morning. First light of dawn, to be exact.

"Oh and boy…" he paused and stood in the doorway of the shoji screen. "Sweep the dojo."

—_Present—_

Jin stood outside the Seven-Ten tavern and gazed at the demons walking by, mostly looking at whether they had food or not. Old Obutsu threw him out, and just for the record, it was not Jin's fault. The guy at a nearby table happened to have ordered a lot of food, much more than he could eat or even needed to eat. Jin was just going to borrow a couple of meat buns, you know, just to eat. This particular demon, however, did not want to share. In fact, he was ready to fight for his food. To his credit, Jin could see why. These weren't just any meat buns.

They were pork buns.

Hmm, pork buns, Jin stared out dreamily and wiped the drool from his mouth. A shadow grew longer beside him until it stopped. The wind master peered up. He was wearing a long dark blue cloak over his normal battle clothes. Jin guessed he was trying to conceal himself in the crowd, but maybe the hooded stranger look wasn't the best choice. He was just too cautious—always scolding him how he didn't disguise himself in public. It wasn't like everyone knew who they really were and what they did for a living. To the villagers of this town, Jin was a known shinobi with the mastery of wind, but they didn't know he was THAT wind master of the infamous Shinobi of the Spirit World.

"Eh, Touya. What brings you here?" he asked as he picked his ears.

"You know why I'm here, Jin," he said coldly and removed his hood.

"Geez, just being friendly. Always straight to the point with you. Never an 'Oh, hey, Jin, how's life treating ya?' Wouldn't hurt you, y'know." No wonder the poor boy's pale blue hair was turning a premature aqua with his serious attitude.

"Sorry. No time for small talk. We have to be in Delagroth by tomorrow night," he turned. Jin pulled him back around with his cloak. Touya shot him an ice blue stare.

"Before we go…" he smiled goofily and laid a hand on his roaring stomach.

Touya gave him a flat look, before sighing and taking out his gold pouch. Jin jumped up and kicked his heels.

Finally...meat buns!

–end chapter

Author's Notes: I've had this idea for weeks, and started it long before my schoolwork piled on me. After this, I go back to my studies. I have too many ideas, I guess. I keep making fanfics…but I can't update on them all at once…oh well, I'll get this one and all the others done eventually…

Remember, if you make a Jin laugh, you'll make him happy for a moment. If you feed a Jin, you'll make him happy forever (or at least until he gets hungry again).


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